


forgiveness

by sp201120122013



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-26
Updated: 2012-07-26
Packaged: 2017-11-10 19:43:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/469954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sp201120122013/pseuds/sp201120122013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>brother francis is certainly in need of redemption, stumbling into father way's lap with a nun's habit hoisted high around his hips.</p><p>inspired by this drawing ok ok yes good:<br/>http://waycest.tumblr.com/post/28053148590/aaaaaaaand-slutty-nun-frank-is-done-with-some</p>
            </blockquote>





	forgiveness

Father Way was headed towards the confessionals at that moment, preparing himself to sit and stew for a whole lot of time listening to all the petty confessions of the members of his parish. Small offenses, of course, as today was reserved for actual members of the church to confess. The nuns, the other priests, the altar boys--choir members if there was time. He'd heard so many stories of greed, of vanity, of taking too many dinner rolls and spending too much time in front of the mirror. He delivered assignments of Hail Marys by the dozen, and nearly dozed off when the older nuns came to confess to him. They were bland, the whole thing was bland, and he was craving some actual sin. He ought to have involved himself in some holy-roller church, laced with scandal and illicit affairs. But no. Born Catholic, raised Catholic, and now a preacher of all things Catholic, he would just have to sit and suffer. Perhaps this was a sort of divine punishment for himself.

 

He settled himself in the seat of his confessional, glad it was at least wide and roomy, with a cushioned bench for him. Some churches only got folding chairs. He peered out of the tiny, slotted window to see a nun creeping towards the confessional. Slender, small, and sure to have nothing decent to say. By nothing decent, he certainly didn't mean indecent. Rather, monotonous and tedious. He leaned against the cheap partition set up between the two booths of the confessional (things had really changed since the Reformation) and waited for her to settle herself.

 

"What troubles you, Sister?" he sighed, hoping she wouldn't sense the apathy in his voice. She was silent. "Sister? It's fine to speak. We're in a house of God, and all your sins will be forgiven. You must only seek that forgiveness." She remained silent. Father Way could hear her breathing, slow and heavy. She must be one of the older nuns, perhaps one of the deafer ones. He frowned, then rapped on the partition between them. "Sister?" he asked again. The breathing on the other side shifted, and he swore he heard her mutter something. "Sister, are you alright?"

 

"'M'just fine, Father." the voice from the other side slurred. It was a low voice, thick and raspy. Not excessively low, but absolutely not female.

 

"Excuse me? Who is this?" Father Way's blood chilled. He could swear he recognized the voice. That voice, laughing at him right now.

 

"Don't y'recognize me? Huh? I'm kinda...kinda hurt." Father Way heard the voice hitch on its own breath, and he picked up on a distinct scent in the air. Like sweat, but off. Definitely off.

 

"...Brother Francis?" he questioned, slow. The voice laughed at him again.

 

"I'm not...not your brother. Least, hope you don't...ah....hope you don't...want...ah, fuck." Father Way leaned in closer to the partition, and there it was. Underneath the heavy breathing there was another sound, a slapping sort of sound. Father Way bit his lip, pressing so close to the partition that he was almost pushing it over. He heard another sound. A rustle, a click. The partition was moving under his cheek, then, and he gasped, scooting back. 

 

As his suspicions were confirmed, he saw the face of Brother Francis. The newest addition to the parish, and one Father Way hadn't had the pleasure of greeting in confession yet. This first time was certainly making itself out to be interesting. From what he had heard of the boy so far, he was fresh out of high school, sent away by his parents for "behavioral issues." So far, though, the boy had been perfectly behaved. He'd heard nothing but good about him. Of course, behavioral issues do manifest in different ways, and the shine on Francis's face as he poked his head into Father Way's side, nun's habit flopping around his cheeks, was indicating a very unique sort of behavioral issue. He broke out grinning.

 

"So help me God," he whispered before staggering into Father Way's side, skirt of the habit hoisted up high and pulled tight around his hips. He was swishing them, of all things, swiveling as he took the few steps necessary to stand in front of Father Way. He was breathing so heavily, and Father Way could smell the sweat seeping out of him. His eyes traveled downward to see the Brother's cock pushing out of the thick fabric of the habit, a bulge straining where Francis had pulled the cloth tight. Father Way felt the blood drain from his face and rush down to his own cock.

 

"Brother Francis, what is the meaning of this?" Father Way hissed, leaning back in his chair as the Brother let the habit fall back down around him, dusting the floor and nearly hiding his erection. The very tip of it was still seen to be pressing out of the shapeless dress, though. Francis grabbed himself through the habit, tipping his head back and sighing at the contact. "Explain yourself!" the Father hissed again, wishing he could do the same to the erection growing in his pants, with only the dark of the confessional to hide it, no habit to speak of.

 

"Frank, please. Call me Frank. You can even call me...call me Frankie, if you want. Heh." he grinned, tilting his head back forward and smirking at Father Way through heavy eyes. "I figured we should introduce ourselves."

 

"This is a confessional."

 

"N'I'm here to confess."

 

"That's not what it looks like." Father Way was trying to keep his breathing steady, trying to ignore Frank teasing himself through the habit--the _nun's_ habit, of all things to wear.

 

"Telling you a story, Father. You wanna know how my parents, why they sent me off here in the first place?" Frank was examining his other hand, licking the tips of each finger. "It's because they caught me, caught me just like this."

 

"In a nun's habit? Doing illicit...doing twisted things, sins to yourself inside of a confessional?" Father Way shuddered as he saw this boy, this Frank slide a finger into his mouth, licking it up and down before adding two, three. His cheeks puckered as he sucked on them, eyes sliding shut. He didn't seem to hear Father Way until he snapped at him. "Frank, Frank!"

 

"Kinda." Frank smiled lazily, pulling the fingers out of his mouth and staring at them, the spit shining on them. "Lemme tell you the story, Father. This is a confessional, after all. It was a Sunday morning, and god, they cared so much about time. Punctuality. And I was upstairs. Upstairs praying, yknow?"

 

"I'm familiar with the act." Father Way was clenching against the cushions of the seat, back pressed up hard against the wall and knees pressed tight together.

 

"So I was praying, down like this." Frank continued, letting himself sink to the floor slowly, staring at Father Way the whole time. "On my knees." he whispered, spreading his legs as he folded his hands into a mock prayer pose. He smirked up at Father Way, the skirt of the habit pooling between his knees, his thighs. Father Way couldn't take his eyes off the bulge protruding from that skirt, forming a tall tent. He didn't notice that Frank was sucking his fingers again. "Father, listen." Frank insisted, moaning one more time around his fingers. That caught Father Way's attention again.

 

"So I was in my room, on my knees. Except, I lied about the praying part." Frank placed a hand on Father Way's knee, bracing himself as he leaned up again. "Hope that doesn't add to my rap list." he breathed, hot and heavy through Father Way's pants, onto his kneecap as he leaned in close. "I was busy with other things." Frank's breath hitched hard all of a sudden, and his face contorted, then relaxed itself again. "Can you guess what they were?"

 

Father Way shook his head, staring down at Frank. He could see the boy moving around, face alternating between pain and bliss at times below him, but he couldn't see what Frank was actually doing. Probably bucking himself on the air, Father Way thought, and his dick pushed itself harder against the tight seam of his pants. Frank laughed, lower, throatier than before. He was almost hoarse when he spoke again.

 

"Mom and Dad caught me knelt down next to my bed, four fingers shoved up my ass." Frank said, sliding his cheek against Father Way's thigh and laughing. "N'guess what?" 

 

"What?"

 

"I've got three up right now." he said, and then Father Way understood the licking of the fingers, the gyrating motions of Frank. "N'Know what else?"

 

"What?"

 

"They didn't come in because we were....ah....because we were late."

 

"Why, then?" Father Way's tone was dropping, hushed and low, laced with want. His fingers ached, his knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping the seat.

 

"They came in because my sister, my sweet sister, she couldn't---nngh." Frank cut off, moaning loud into Father Way's crotch.

 

"Couldn't what, Frank?"

 

"Couldn't...couldn't find her dress." Frank moaned again, smile spreading across his face. "You wanna know where it was?"

 

"Where?" Father Way breathed, though he already had a pretty good idea. Frank smirked.

 

"On her big brother." Father Way saw Frank gasp, hard, and jerk back, sliding down...down closer to the floor. Father Way's stomach rolled when he realized how deep the boy's hand must be inside of him. "That's four, Father. I've got four."

 

"Four?"

 

"Fingers."

 

"Christ."

 

Frank laughed. "That'll be...ah...that's, that's a few "Our Father's" for you, Father. Third commandment."

 

"Is that the end of your story?" Frank shook his head.

 

"So of course, they were furious, nngh, they were so, so mad....and they sent me here. Sent me here to fix me, but God, Father."

 

"What?"

 

"Knew I wouldn't get fixed here."

 

"And why's that? Ah!" Father Way cried out as he felt Frank's fingers squeeze around his erection.

 

"Because you're just the same as me."

 

"How--"

 

"I can see it in you, Father. In the way you walk."

 

"And what way is that?"

 

"The way like you'd like a nice boy like me hanging off your cock."

 

Father Way was silent, and Frank stared at him, stopping the motion of his hips and fingers to gawk. "Is that true, Father?"

 

Father Way again didn't speak, but pushed the nun's covering off of Frank's head before grabbed Frank by the short locks of his hair, tugging him up to meet his face. Frank moaned loud into the Father as he roughly pulled his hand out of his ass, grabbing at Father Way's knees instead. His small hands groped at the fabric there, clenching it as Father Way attacked his mouth, tasting the sweat in the corners and sucking hard on the boy's tongue. Frank's hands moved up to Father Way's chest, pulling at the shirt and climbing up onto the Father's lap, straddling him. Father Way's hands moved up fast underneath the habit, sliding over smooth thighs and bony ribs to squeeze at Frank's nipples, hard. 

 

"God." Frank whimpered, grinding his erection into Father Way's, two unfortunate layers of clothing between them. He took his hands off of the Father to lift the skirt of his habit up high, bunching it around his chest. "Have you ever fucked a man before, Father?"

 

"I have."

 

"Me, too." Frank sighed, stroking a finger along Father Way's jaw before diving in and kissing him again, sloppy and wet. "But never a priest."

 

"I would hope not."

 

"You've got the first tally in that category. On my record."

 

"How many tallies are in the other categories?"

 

"Twenty."

 

"Mother of God." Father Way breathed as his hands trailed down Frank to stroke at his cock. It was practically dripping. 

 

"Hail Mary." Frank whispered back as he fumbled around Father Way's crotch, unfastening belt, zipper, button before pulling out the priest's cock and stroking it hard, fast.

 

"Full of grace." Father Way returned as he allowed one finger to circle and enter the slick area of Frank's already loosened asshole. It slid in easily, as if it was sucking him in.

 

"I'd rather be full of you, Father." Frank moaned as he sank down on the single finger, louder as the Father quickly added in a second. "Please, please, I'm so ready. I've been thinking about it since I saw you."

 

"Are you--"

 

"I've been praying for it, Father. Please."

 

Father Way paused before pulling Frank's hips closer to him, Frank's cock skimming the Father's chest as Frank gazed down at him.

 

"Were you praying on your knees?"

 

Frank smiled wide in approval, in understanding. "God, yes. Every night. Father, please." he begged, running his hands through Father Way's already messy hair.

 

"I think a prayer delivered with such...such diligence...deserves reward." Father Way pressed a kiss to the side of Frank's neck before taking his hands off the boy, leaning back and looking at Frank expectantly. Frank caught on quickly and braced a hand on Father Way's shoulder, leaving the other one to hold up the habit as Frank angled himself, positioning himself to slide easily down on Father Way's cock. Both of them moaned loud as Father Way's head entered Frank, and Frank was quick to add to the contact, sliding down fast and hard. All the way down.

 

"Christ, Frank."

 

"Third commandment, Father."

 

"You're...you're...."

 

"I practiced." Frank said, leaning in to kiss Father Way, tongues sliding together as he began to slide up and down on Father Way. The Father's mouth was full of Frank's moans, hot and desperate. "God, Father." he dragged as Father Way moved his hands to Frank's hips, giving him guidance in his riding as well as holding the habit up around his waist.

 

"I can see why you needed to...needed to come to confession." Father Way managed between thrusts."

 

"Why's that?"

 

"Such a....such a bad little boy."

 

"Forgive me, Father." Frank moaned, moving harder, faster on Father Way's cock. "For I have...fuck, fuck."

 

"Cursing in a church, could you get any worse?" Father Way murmured, biting at the small patch of skin on Frank's neck that the habit's collar allowed to be exposed.

 

"Please, Father. Please." Frank begged.

 

"Please what?"

 

"Touch me." he pleaded, and Father Way complied, jerking his hand hard and fast over Frank's sloppy, leaking dick. Frank's moans turned into breathy little gasps, and he was practically bouncing in the Father's lap, alternating between grinding down and shoving up. The Father's hand squeezed tight around Frank at the exact moment that Frank bottomed down, hard, on his dick, and Frank was coming, squeezing his thighs tight around Father Way and moaning expletives into the priest's neck. Frank grabbed the hand covered in his cum and began to lick it off, sucking greedily at the fingers, and after that Father Way came quickly, shooting a heavy load deep inside of Frank, who gasped out as the hot warmth filled him up.

 

 

"Frank."

 

"Father." Frank sighed, still full of the priest's cock. "Father, am I forgiven?"

 

"You...no, not quite."

 

"What, Father? What do you want?" Frank urged, running his hands over the Father's sweat soaked shirt, covering his neck with kisses.

 

"Fifty Our Fathers."

 

"Just fifty?"

 

"Every night."

 

"Every night? For how long, Father?"

 

"Until I come find you."

 

"I will."

 

"Frank."

 

"Yes, Father?"

 

"Add a finger for every ten."

 

Frank exhaled in approval, bending in to wrap himself around the Father, to snuggle him close. "I will. Then will I be forgiven?"

 

"We'll see." Father Way finished, stroking Frank's hair as they shared a knowing smirk.

 

Forgiveness certainly did not come easily in the Catholic faith.

 


End file.
